


Phoenix: Rise From The Ashes

by Morgan_Diablood



Series: Tale of a Phoenix [3]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Blindfolds, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dissociation, Drama, Electrocution, Enemies to Friends, Force-Feeding, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Mind Rape, Non-Consensual Bondage, Past Brainwashing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Swearing, Torture, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27788590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgan_Diablood/pseuds/Morgan_Diablood
Summary: When the Bird of Hermes is mysteriously stolen away from his loved ones, he will struggle to keep his mind intact as a series of events unfold that call everyone’s beliefs into question.
Relationships: Alucard & Alexander Anderson, Alucard & Seras Victoria, Integra Hellsing & Seras Victoria, Seras Victoria & Schrödinger
Series: Tale of a Phoenix [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779193
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Phoenix: Rise From The Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> So, it’s finally happening! I’m finally starting my multichapter! It’s been a slow start, to be honest, but I’m so happy to get the first chapter out! I really hope you all enjoy it.

**Act I**

* * *

_ Tick… tock… tick… tock… _

Integra let out a sigh as the nib of her pen scratched on paper. The reports, letters, invitations, and contracts that passed across her desk throughout the day had imprinted their words in her brain, swimming behind the darkness of her eyelids every time she blinked.

Shaking her head of the sleep that played with the corners of her mind, Integra’s eyes glanced at the ticking clock on the wall. It was almost midnight, she was quick to note. Where on earth was he? Integra had sent Alucard to clear a vampire den after dinner, which was always at seven o’clock sharp. Alucard should have gotten back hours ago; his penchant for taking a gratuitous amount of pleasure in tormenting his targets notwithstanding, he rarely took this long. It would have been very much unlike Alucard to simply return and retreat to his dungeon without speaking to anyone.

“Sir Integra, you really should be off to bed.” Walter spoke as he entered the room, a cup of tea in hand.

“Alucard should have been back by now.” Integra told him. “Do you think something may have happened to him?”

Walter set the teacup onto the desk, careful not to spill as he pushed aside a crystal ashtray to make room. “I’m sure Alucard is perfectly fine. He’s probably just happy to be out and taking his time.”

Holding the dainty china demitasse in her fingers, Integra's eyes traced the delicate leaflets and roses that curled around it — exquisite designs that had been painted on the teacup likely many decades before she was born — then along the way the porcelain puffed near the base and the steam that slowly curled into the air. With a slight twist of her wrist, Integra watched the tea twirl inside the cup, sloshing up the sides, lost within her own thoughts for a moment. She took a sip, and the steam briefly fogged her glasses.

“I hope you’re right.” was all she said.

Walter’s lips curved into a slight smile. “I know I am.”

With a graceful bow, he took his leave, crossing the distance to the doors and closing them behind him.

Integra had returned to the last of her paperwork when the temperature in the room plummeted. Looking up, she could see the blackness that had already pooled on the wall; it formed an inky portal which stretched along the plaster, and a tall figure, clad in red, began to emerge from the gloom.

“My Master, I have returned,” Alucard said as he entered the room.

“Hello, servant,” Integra greeted. Lighting a cigar, she couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her. “You were right next to the door.”

Alucard chuckled in return. “Doors are for humans,” he said. He had long since found that walking through walls was easier than having to duck under the doorways that were always too short for him.

Integra leaned back in her chair and took a long puff from her havana. Blowing the smoke from her lungs, she spoke. “I trust you carried out your orders.”

“Of course Master.” Alucard leaned himself against the desk in a manner that was almost casual. “It was nothing new. Just another low-life punk who became too pompous for his own good.” he stated, in a voice that sounded almost disappointed.

Integra quirked an eyebrow. “Got caught up? Surely a low-life didn’t take you nearly five hours to eliminate.”

“I was enjoying myself.”

Leveling a steady gaze at him, Integra locked eyes with Alucard and took another drag. She did not say anything at first; she simply looked upon her servant with an unspoken importunateness.

After another beat punctuated by the ticking of the clock, Intgera looked back to the papers on her desk. “I’ll be retiring to bed soon.” she said. “I expect a full report from you tomorrow.”

Sensing that the conversation had reached its end, Alucard stepped back from the desk. “Yes, Master.”

“Goodnight, Alucard,” Integra said after him.

Stopping at the center of the room, Alucard looked back at her, a grin visible on his face. “Goodnight, my Master.”

With that, he stepped back, and his body melted into the shadows.

Alucard reemerged in his dungeon sanctuary. Stepping away from the doors that had remained undisturbed, he paced across the spacious, yet mostly empty room, navigating the darkness with ease. As Alucard neared his throne, he saw his coffin. The silver-trimmed box, mirroring the elongated physique of its owner, bore an argent cross and writing on its obsidian lid.

**The Bird of Hermes is my name. Eating my wings to make me tame.**

-.-.-

The roar of gunfire sent startled birds scattering from their roosts into the night sky.

A paper target was ripped from its stand by the hefty round, joining the shattered wood scraps that surrounded it on the soft expanse of dewy grass. Lowering her Harkonnen, Seras momentarily looked back at her master, as if for approval. Though he offered no outward sign of commendation, Alucard continued to watch the young Draculina aim for targets that were too far away for a human, a few kilometers beyond the fencing. Despite the deafening shots, his body was relaxed, poised with his arms crossed loosely in front of him. Master observing fledgling while she trained had become something of a nightly ritual for the pair, and Alucard felt right at home.

“You’ll need to do better than that if you want to become a proper vampire,” he said. “Nevertheless, you’re finally learning to aim like one.”

Another target exploded into splinters, and Seras once again glanced at Alucard over her shoulder, her face lit up with a smile. “Th-Thank you, Master!”

“You still have yet to drink blood, however,” he added with a smirk. “How long will you continue this farce?”

Seras paused for a moment, and her eyes averted to the ground. Tightening her grip on her gun, she returned to her targets.

As the firing resumed, Alucard’s attention was drawn to a bird perched on the wrought iron of the outer fence; it was seemingly unperturbed by the periodic gunshots nor by the presence of the apex predators. Peering at the little thing, Alucard recognized the tiny creature and its flaming carmine belly as a robin. It almost appeared to be observing the two, inspecting them with its beady black eyes.

Just as suddenly as it had seemed to appear, the bird flew off, and Alucard returned his attention to his fledgling.

-.-.-

“We’re ready?” the voice that spoke was hushed, muttering into the receiver as to not allow anyone outside of his bedroom walls to hear.

As the person on the other end spoke in the affirmative, Walter again stared at his closed door. He sat at a small desk at the foot of his bed, pen hovering over a half-written letter illuminated only by a lamp. The aged butler was at full alert; he listened to every creak, every groan that could be a footstep or the house settling, ready to hang up at the first sign of someone approaching.

“Have we been provided what was promised?”

“Ja, it hast already been put to use.”

Finally looking away from the door, Walter continued to write. “What about the boy?”

“A loose end, I’m afraid.” the other admitted. “A product of mein Major’s plan.”

“That doesn’t answer my question; what are you going to do with him? His purpose will be redundant if we act.”

“Ja, ja, zere is alvays repurposing. Herr Major has been using him as a messenger for years, und for someone who is othervise a nuisance, he does vell at his job. Beside that, my Major is quite fond of his little pet.”

Walter paused, and his eyes flicked back toward the door. “Doctor Napyeer, are you certain that this is what you want us to do? There will be no going back if we start, and the boy is not the only thing that can be repurposed.”

“I understand ze risks, Dornez, und zey do not change my mind. Ze potential of our target is far too great to kill him! I have only been able to vork vith a small piece of him, und a piece can only get one so far.”

As the conversation came to a close, Walter folded and sealed the letter. Standing up, he left the room as if nothing had happened.

-.-.-

As he moved to follow Seras inside, Alucard stopped, and he turned around to watch the sunrise. A cool gust of air stroked his face like a silky caress, and a smile crept across his features. As the light and colors spilled over the treeline, dyeing the sky like watercolor being brushed across a canvas, Alucard lifted his hand to his chest, spindly fingers sliding under his necktie to touch the cross around his neck. The sight of the approaching dawn was almost nostalgic, in a way. Alucard remembered the same sunrise; from the imbrued wood of the execution stand, to his old castle, it was always the same.

Closing his eyes against the sunlight that inched its way onto his face, Alucard grimaced, making an expression of wry vexation. Though it no longer burned him, Alucard still hated the sun on an almost pathological level. Its warm rays, while soothing to most, felt more like an oppressive weight that he could feel pressing down on him whenever he found himself in its wake. Not to mention the feeling of incredible drowsiness it never failed to bring him.

“Master?”

Alucard looked back at his police girl. She stood in the doorway, waiting for him, though she was slowly backing away from the daylight. Turning his back to the brightening grounds, Alucard retreated into the manor.

He was a Nosferatu, king of the night. Alucard had no need for the sun.


End file.
